


Mishaps Through the Ages

by SummerLeighWind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidents, Age Regression/De-Aging, Age-Up, Animagus, Animal Transformation, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Children, F/M, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Ghosts, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts Founders Era, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Magical Accidents, Marauders' Era, Metamorphmagus, Minor Injuries, Mistakes, Mother-Son Relationship, Next Generation, One Shot Collection, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Polyjuice Potion, Potions, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Sabotage, Scars, Spell Failure, Spells & Enchantments, Tea Parties, The Golden Trio Era, Werewolves, character turned into an animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerLeighWind/pseuds/SummerLeighWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots detailing all the ways in which different kinds transformations can go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unsteady, on a Tightrope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Original Male Character

Farley Goyle had always been told he was thick by his mother, and slow by his fellow students at Hogwarts, but he'd never quite believed them. He'd figured out how to get the sorting hat to put him in Hufflepuff, hadn't he? At the very least, Farley had always liked to think he had some wits about him. After all, Scorpius  _Malfoy_ hadn't stopped himself from getting put in Slytherin. Anyone who had even the slightest bit of intelligence and a little knowledge of the war, and where the Malfoys fell could tell you that had looked quite bad.

The whispers that had risen up from the Hufflepuff table at the time had even proved it, Farley thought. He could distinctly recall an older girl muttering to her friend across from him, "He must be just like his father to go  _there_."

They'd never said the same about him. Though, none of his fellow Hufflepuffs knew much about  _his_ father. It wasn't like a Goyle had ever ended up in the badger house before, after all. The most any seemed to be aware of was that his father had been friends with Malfoy's, had no trouble hurting other students during the dark days at Hogwarts and spent a year in Azkaban after the war.

All in all, his father was a lot like many of the young men and women who'd fought on the wrong side during the battle. The fact he'd gotten himself in  _Hufflepuff_ , though, had done well for his reputation. It lulled those around him into believing he was harmless, after all, so few Hufflepuffs ever became something villainous. And of the few atrocities committed by the mold-breakers, they were quickly forgotten in the face of their brethren's innumerable good deeds for wizardkind.

For every Barty Crouch Junior, there was a Fat Friar. That was how things were and how they always would be, as far as Farley could tell.

It was almost sickening to a bloke like him how goody-goody those around him were. It may have made his time at Hogwarts smooth, once he was sorted into Hufflepuff, but he had no plans to do his kind any  _good_ when he finished at the end of the year. No, in fact, he'd already been told by his father that he'd be learning how to run his mother's less than reputable family shop,  _Trackleshanks Locksmith._ It'd belonged to his grandmother's family, the Trackleshanks, but seeing as she was a woman and the only child out of two to make it to adulthood, it'd been given to the Bulstrodes once his great-grandfather passed on. More than once, his mother had cursed the shop and complained about how tedious it was to run such business. Once in a blue moon, Farley would even hear her grumble about how it'd have been better if her uncle hadn't "accidentally" drowned in an attempt to make his magic manifest when he was eight.

Farley knew he wasn't smart - not like Rose Weasley, who had already figured out how to charm unsmart moblies to work at Hogwarts - but he wasn't as dull as mother or his fellow students believed. He knew that when his mother said his great-uncle had drowned by "accident", she really meant he'd been drowned for being a squib.

Distantly, as he stared down at the bright red scars that ran up and down his leg, he wondered if his mother would do the same to him once she figured out he'd gotten himself turned into a werewolf. Lord Voldemort may have died in the war, but it didn't mean the cause he stood for had. For people like his parents, the gagged generation, having a werewolf in the family was like marrying a muggle or mudblood, it was believed to taint not only the family name, but the bloodline as well.

Shuddering as he brought his knees up to his chest, Farley reminded himself he only had to keep it hidden a while longer. He'd be back at Hogwarts to finish the last half of his school year in two days time and there, he could let the Headmistress know and she'd help. Fiona Rothschild was known for her willingness to help a student in a tight spot. Plus, she'd been a Hufflepuff like him. Surely that'd be enough for her to agree to help him conceal his condition long enough so he could get out of Hogwarts and as far away from Britain as possible once he graduated?

Farley might not like the fact he was not a werewolf, but he didn't want to die at the hands of his mother or father, either.

Looking out the little window of the garden shed he'd warded to hold him for the night, Farley regretted sneaking out of Hogwarts with Abbot and Cornfoot to smoke muggle drugs. He regretted ditching the pair when they started snogging and most of all, he regretted walking straight into the Forbidden Forest on a full moon.

He may have never believed himself to be the dummy people thought him to be, but Farley had to admit he'd been really daft that night. It was just luck Cornfoot and Abbot had heard him screaming and come to help him out. It was just luck he'd convinced them it was scratches and not a bite. It was just luck Abbot had started to learn spells healers used, because she wanted to be one. It was all luck and now it was about to run out.

Tonight was the moment of truth.

Either his warding would hold and he'd get to go back to Hogwarts in two days time, where the Headmistress would help him, or it wouldn't hold and his werewolf-self would break free from the shed and be killed by his father when it came too close to the estate. A full-body wave of pain overwhelming him, Farley grunted and curled even tighter into a ball as the transformation began.

 _Please_...he pleaded to the nighttime sky.  _Please don't let Dad kill me, I want to...I want to **live**._


	2. The Badger Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Wayne Hopkins, Minerva McGonagall, Hannah Abbott, Leanne, Megan Jones

" _Merlin's name, boy_!" Professor McGonagall roared at Wayne, "How in the world did you  _do_ this?"

Keeping his head down, Wayne looked out of the corner of his eye at the other students in the classroom. Practically everyone was  _staring_ at them! Biting the inside of his cheek, Wayne couldn't find an answer.

" _Well_ , Mister Hopkins?" the professor demanded.

Lifting his gaze, the boy felt his lip begin to tremble at the anger he saw in the set of the woman's jaw and quirk of her brows. "I didn't-" stoping, he bit back the whimper building in the back of his throat and whispered, "It was an  _accident._ "

Eyes a bit wild, McGonagall growled, "I should hope so! There's absolutely nothing Miss Jones could have done to deserve this!"

Somewhere from behind them, Wayne heard Leanne and Hannah giggle as one stage-whispered, "The professor's obviously never been kept up by her sleep-talking then!"

Wayne was sure the outrage on McGonagall's face mirrored his own as they both turned their heads to yell at the girls.

"Belt up, you slags!"

"Ten points from Hufflepuff!"

Their shouts may have been simultaneous, but McGonagall was far too used to splitting her attention between students to have not heard his insult. "Mister Hopkins!" she rebuked, "Another five points from Hufflepuff for vulgar name-calling!"

Crossing his arms, the boy sank into his seat and blew out his cheeks. After a beat, he glanced to Megan. For a badger in the middle of a classroom, she looked quite happy. Though, that was probably because Megan was eating the muffin that she had put in her satchel for a snack later. Sighing, he knew that the badger's blissfulness wouldn't last once she was a witch again. "You can fix her, right, Professor?" he asked in a small voice.

McGonagall's face softened ever so slightly. "Yes, Mister Hopkins. While a little tricky, the counter is much easier to preform than the actual spell," she explained.

Relaxing some, Wayne stood up. "Good. And, erm, I think I should go for a...walk. Megan will be awfully upset when she turns back and figures out I did it because I wasn't watching where I was pointing my wand."

"Alright," Professor McGonagall agreed with a twitch of her lips. "Just note, young man, if Miss Jones really wants to give it to you for what you've done, she'll find a way."

Shoulders slumping, Wayne nodded his head. "Oh, I know," he replied. "But she has a tendency to react... _physically_. I figure you'll have to take more points from Hufflepuff if she gives me a black eye."

This caused the professor's upturned lips to turn into a poorly suppressed smirk. "You are quite right, Mister Hopkins, I  _would_ have to take points as we do not condone physical violence for any reason at Hogwarts. So, young man, I suggest you hurry because I will be countering the spell in just a moment."

Wayne did not need to be told twice. Jumping from his seat, he raced out of the classroom; just in time too, he noted, when an enraged shriek came from the Transfiguration classroom.

Hopefully, when he went to lunch, Megan wouldn't want to deck him anymore. Though, he was sure no matter what happened, she'd be giving him quite the earful.


	3. Twelve Going on Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Severus Snape, Mary Macdonald

Stirring the contents of her cauldron as Mary went to get the next ingredient, Marlene was surprised by how mesmerized she was by the shimmery blue liquid of her unfinished potion. Cocking her head to the side as she sighed, Marlene let her lips quirk upward. It reminded her of her older cousin Jeannie's favorite nail polish.

The lilt of her lips became a full blown smirk as she recalled how loudly her cousin had screamed when Marlene's older brother, Daniel, had upturned it during their summer together at the McKinnon country cottage. The incident had become downright hilarious when her brother had come running through the kitchen with Jeannie right on his heels.

The fact she was a hand-span away from catching Daniel the entire time while clomping after him on her heels had been enough to cause her to tumble to the kitchen's tile floor laughing.

So distracted was she that the second year didn't notice Sirius Black's quick approach.

"Marlene!" Mary cried.

Eyes snapping upward, Marlene was able to catch a glimpse of Sirius's leering countenance before what appeared to be newt eyes were flung into her potion. Gaze dropping downward in response, she cringed at how it burbled into an ominous storm-cloud gray. Arm shooting up to cover her face, the girl had no time to duck as the potion gave one clamorous kaboom as its contents shot out and splattered not only her, but quite possibly Sirius too.

Shrieking at the feeling of the hot liquid hitting her exposed skin, she stumbled back, only for her to trip over her chair as her body gave into sudden, aching pains.

Groaning and moaning as she rolled around on the ground, Marlene attempted to ride out the feeling of her bones and skin being stretched taut by biting her lip as she curled into a tiny, tiny ball. Through the pain, she felt someone take her hand and with a sudden relief at knowing she wasn't alone, the girl squeezed it with all the strength she had to spare.

A few minutes later, when the pain ebbed away to only leave her legs and arms twanging with sudden spasms, Marlene sat up.

"Oooww..." she muttered as she brought a hand to her head.

Squinting through the mild headache, Marlene blinked when she saw something black and soft be shoved into her face. Looking up, she noticed that Lily was wearing a grim expression.

Pushing the robe right beneath her nose, the redhead declared, "Take it, you need to cover yourself."

"What?" Marlene mumbled as her fingers fumbled at grasping the fabric.

Sighing beside her, Mary took the robe for her and murmured, "Let me-" as she draped it over her front.

Touching the fabric, Marlene frowned in puzzlement, but soon that confusion turned into panic as she realized something about her was very different.

She had a pair of  _knockers._ Big ones too.

On the verge of hyperventilating, Marlene's gaze darted between Lily and Mary. "What - What  _happened_?" she demanded.

Lily turned her head. "Sev?" she called.

A moment later, the ugly, dour Slytherin that Lily spent so much of her time with appeared in front of Marlene. Dark eyes glittering with what she was sure had to be some form of glee, Marlene was only further rattled by how plainly he said, "Black inadvertently created an Aging Potion when he threw the frog eyes in your potion - which wasn't even close to the Pepper-Up we were supposed to be making, I might add."

Irked, Marlene rolled her eyes before demanding, "This will wear off, right? Or do I need to go to the infirmary?"

"From what I understand, Aging Potions wear off on their own. But if Slughorn ever returns from wherever he buggered off to twenty minutes ago, he might say differently."

Crinkling her nose at the vulgar language, the woman-child questioned, "Then should I just go see Madam Pomfrey now?"

The boy gave a flippant shrug as he looked past her to the arguing voices of what sounded like James Potter, Remus Black, Peter Pettigrew and...someone else. "If you do, take Black with you. He's enjoying his new found age-up more than he ought to be."

Looking behind her, Marlene openly gawped. Sirius Black, at whatever age he was now, was absolutely  _dashing._ He looked almost like something right off a romance novels her cousin Jeannie liked!

Having caught her staring, Sirius turned his head and gave her a wink. "Hey there, Marlene," he said. "Aren't you cracking?" he proclaimed with an expressive glance to her breasts.

Without care for her modesty, Marlene got up. Stalking toward Sirius, she recalled Daniel's advice for dealing with toe rags like him.

_"Walk right up! Smile like you're gonna give 'em something sweet and then - wham! Take 'em out with a knee to the bits!"_

Putting on a simpering smile as she paused in front of the uncertain looking man-child, she waited for him to give a hesitant grin of his own before-

"Marlene!" Mary and Lily shrilled in surprise.

Flipping back golden locks, as Sirius toppled to the ground moaning, she told her mates, "He deserved it. Any man who tries to chat up a woman like  _that,_ deserves no better."

"Hello, children! I'm back and I-"

The students looked to the doorway where a shocked, and quickly paling Slughorn stood.

"Professor?" Remus called, "Sirius needs to go to the infirmary and, erm, Marlene probably should too..."

Nodding vigorously, Slughorn gave a nervous chuckle. "Dear me, I think you're right! Hurry along you lot! And if you don't mind, let's not let our lovely Madam Pomfrey know I this all transpired when I stepped out for a moment during lab?"

Marlene smiled victoriously. "Of course, sir," she agreed.

And together, Marlene and Sirius (with the help of Remus) left the classroom and headed for the infirmary.


	4. When a Door is Locked, A Window Can be Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Rosier sr.

Hunched over the potion he'd spent the last three months trying over and over again to get it  _just_ right, Dwayne Rosier grinned. Laughing softly to himself, he reached for the little vile he had tucked away in his robes earlier that morning. This was the last ingredient and once he added it, his potion would be complete.

Uncorking the thin beaker-like vile, he carefully tipped it over his palm and had the fine brown hairs drift out. Dropping them over the potion, he brought out his wand and waved it. Watching the potion with baited breath, Dwayne couldn't help but gasp as it burbled up suddenly only to turn to a pale green and start giving off a vapor that held a certain citric scent to it.

"It would figure," he muttered. "Greengrass  _is_  just as sour as any lemon."

The potion simmering down, Dwayne cast a quick cooling charm on it and took it off the burner. Then, once satisfied that it was properly set aside, he took a seat on the hard, cold ground of the tiny closet he'd turned into his potions lab. Sighing tiredly, Dwayne reminded himself he couldn't dawdle much longer. Lucretia would be done with Astronomy within the next twenty minutes and if he wanted any hope of making off with the girl to have his way with her, he'd have to get to there before the  _real_ Greengrass did.

Chuckling at the cleverness of his plan, Dwayne thought dreamily of the Black beauty. Unlike her cousin, Walburga, Lucretia was fair, demure and had an adorable habit that kept her from meeting the gazes of anyone who was either older than her or male.

Even if you were to try and force her, she wouldn't. No, instead, Lucretia would bend over backwards just to avoid doing so and if you did managed to catch her gaze, she'd get adorably wide-eyed. Like small rodent trapped by a hungry owl. It was a sight to see and lately, Dwayne had begun to wonder what it would be like to bed such a girl. Surely such submissive behavior would translate over? Hopefully it would mean she would do  _whatever_ he wanted?

With any luck it might mean she'd carry out his deepest fantasies without any dissenting cry.

Still imagining all the things that could he could make Lucretia do, slowly, Dwayne's thoughts began to be plagued by the ugly mug of one Clifford Greengrass. Scowling as his mind's eye filled with images of him walking hand in hand with Lucretia and Greengrass pressing kisses to her cheeks, Dwayne shook his head.

Grumbling to himself angrily about the boy that stood in the way of him having his way with Lucretia, he picked up the vile that had previously held Greengrass's hairs and dipped it into the potion. Ladling out a portion, he gulped it down in one fell swoop and spat out afterwards due to the taste.

"Ugh, so  _sour_!" he coughed.

However, he was soon distracted from the lingering taste as he watched his person transform. With awe, he watched as his fingers thinned and elongated from their usual, stubby appearance and then encountered a bit of dizziness as he lost several inches. However, once he started seeing his chest grow outwards, Dwayne's awe turned to horror.

Scrambling to get his wand from the floor, he transfigure the burner he'd used into a mirror and moaned, "Nooo!"

Touching his now freckled countenance, he frowned when he recognized the face. "Pearl Moon?" he whispered, "But she's in  _Hufflepuff_! What was that daft bugger thinking sneaking that little gossipmonger into our dorm for a shag!"

Throwing down the vile that had transformed him into the Hufflepuff, Dwayne cussed out his luck, "This is so bloody unfair! Why should  _I_ be the one to pay for Greengrass being a dog!?"

Dropping down to the ground, Dwayne crossed his arms and muttered angrily to himself for several long minutes about his poor fortune. However, his muttering soon came to a halt when a sudden idea sparked to life.

"I can tell her," he whispered with excitement. "I can tell Lucretia Greengrass is a dog and that I saw him with Moon! How wicked! She'll break up with that sod in no time at all!"

Giddily jumping to his feet, Dwayne nearly ran out of his little closet and potions lab, but when he nearly tripped over his own robe he stopped and gave an embarrassed giggle. "Oh, oh right. I should wait for this to wear off first..." Taking a seat on the floor once again, Dwayne happily entertained himself with all the ways Lucretia could break up with Greengrass until he started feeling the potion wear off.

Once he was himself again, Dwayne waisted no time in telling Lucretia what her boyfriend had been doing behind her back. However, that was the only part of his plan that went accordingly. Once Lucretia was told, she had Walburga confront Greengrass. For his part, Greengrass looked completely shocked by the accusations and kept insisting they weren't true. Eventually, though, the boy was worn down and admitted that he'd taken Moon to his bed several nights earlier.

Tearful, Lucretia broke things off with Greengrass even as he pleaded with her, promising it wouldn't happen again. Later that night, confidant that he would be able to wrangle a date from her, he'd approached her while she was speaking quietly with Walburga and asked, "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me next week?"

However, before Lucretia could give an answer, Walburga was throwing stinging hexes at him.

"How dare you!" she screamed. "She  _just_ broke things off with that dog and you're already  _asking her out_? What is with you slimes? Can't you let a girl properly mourn her failed relationship before you come chatting her up!"

Running away from the mad Black, Dwayne had slunk off to his dorm to lick his wounds in peace and quiet. But upon entering the room, he was startled to see several other of his dormmates in similar states.

It seemed they'd all been hoping to woo Lucretia Black.

Looking his way upon entering, Mulciber offered up an open bottle Ogden's. "Care for a swig?" he asked.

Hesitating for only a second, Dwayne stalked over and snatched the drink from Mulciber's unresisting fingers. "Hell bloody yes," he muttered before downing the whiskey.


	5. Running from Heaven's Gates of Splendor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Helena Ravenclaw and The Bloody Baron

When her clever eyes had lost their spark, the Baron had begun to panic. When beautiful, talented,  _vexing_ Helena Ravenclaw slumped to the ground with his knife still lodged in her breast, the Baron snapped. Ripping the knife from her lifeless husk, he'd wasted no time in plummeting it into his own.

Crying out his agony, he'd dropped to his knees and shook as he felt his breathing become more and more labored with each and every sob that wracked his portly frame. Shortly, his vision began to narrow until all he saw through his pinprick gaze was the slack countenance of Helena staring back at him. Incapable of drawing in another breath, the Baron's body began to shake with painful coughs as his lungs desperately attempted to empty themselves of the blood that filled them in a last ditch effort to save him.

However, it was a losing battle they were waging and no more than a moment later the Baron fell face-forward into the ground. Lifeless.

A brief span of time later, the Baron realized he was standing, breathing fine on a misty, back country road. Looking around, he spotted a slim figure in the distance. Taking a step forward, he called, "Hail fellow! Who might you be?"

Out of the mist stepped a familiar face.

"Baron?" Helena's pretty mouth murmured.

Shocked, he took a step back. "Lady Ravenclaw..." he whispered. Shaking, the Baron turned. He could not stay here, he could not be so close to Helena after what he'd done to her.

Starting to run, the Baron wished he was elsewhere - even back in the forest where he murdered her. Anywhere but here would be better. His guilt so maddening, the Baron only ran quicker when he started to hear Helena yelling his name from behind him. Running and running for what felt like hours, he noticed the mist beginning to thin out around him.

Relieved by this and by the fact Helena's shouts were little more a buzz in the background, the Baron slowed. Pondering the woods around him, he concluded that he must be in the plane between life and death. Or, maybe, a kind of purgatory for sinners like he. Pausing in his stroll, he shivered as he hunched his shoulders close for warmth. If he went back the way he came, would the path lead him into Hell? Surely after what he's done there would be no place better for him?

Turning around, he prepared himself to walk back to the path he'd started at. He'd earned what was coming to him for killing the lovely Helena Ravenclaw, and while he knew he could attempt to avoid his fate, it would find him in the end. Maybe, if he paid his penance sooner rather than later he could be gifted absolution for his sins in the end. Then - just  _maybe -_  the Baron would be let into the angels' domain. He would get to see his parents, sisters, uncle, lost friends and, if he were so lucky,  _Helena_ again.

However, his plans were dashed as soon as they were formed. Upon completing his turn, the Baron was made to gasp.

He was back in the forest where he'd killed Helena. His body was laying facedown on the ground before him and Helena's was still slumped against the tree.

"What...?" he whispered.

"Baron! Why ever did you run?" a voice demanded from behind.

Twisting his head around, he choked, "Lady Ravenclaw..."

Ghostly-white countenance marred with a heavy frown, she grumbled, "I had waited for you. I thought mayhap we might cross to the other side together."

Feeling terrible, the Baron pointed to their bodies. "My deepest apologies, my lady, but I do not believe we will be crossing anytime soon."

Looking to where he was pointing, Helena brought both hands to her mouth. "No..." she whimpered.

Nodding grimly, the Baron whispered, "We are back where we began. Surely you know that means we are now-"

"-spirits!" she cried. "We are spirits!"

Stepping forward, the Baron attempted to comfort the lady, but his hand passed through her own. With a sharp intake of breath, he jerked back and muttered, "This was never supposed to happen."

None of this was supposed to happen. Helena was never supposed to die, nor was he. He had not meant to come back to the mortal plane and he had not meant to become a spirit and the Baron had  _never_ meant to drag Helena down with him. But he had. Now, for the rest of eternity, he'd trapped not only himself, but poor Helena to the mortal world.

It was at this time the Baron thought, ' _Who needs the Christians' Hell when I've created my own_?'


	6. Little Boy Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin

Staring at the face gazing back up at him from the mirror he held, Salazar took in the roundness, the way his ears - oblong and too large for his head - stuck out from either side, making him take on a ape-like appearance. Angrily, he thought of all the time Godric must have had to study his youthful countenance before waking him. He bet the man had laughed at his ears. Though, Salazar didn't feel that he could blame him because even after all these years, Salazar could still recall how odd he'd looked as a boy.

It had been quite common for other children to tease him for his ape-like looks.

A rush of insecurity seizing him, he threw down the mirror. The sound of it cracking was more than satisfactory, however, he knew it could not stay so. It was not his mirror. Reaching into the many folds of his altered tunic, Salazar brought out his wand.

Pointing it at the mirror, he mumbled a spell to fix it. But it did nothing. Trying once more, Salazar began to feel the prickle of fear on his neck when again the mirror did not right itself.

"My magic..." he whispered. "Damn that boy," Salazar hissed angrily as he shoved his wand away. It was just his luck that the first gift he ever received from a student be cursed.

Attempting to feel for his magic, to assess its strength, Salazar began to feel terror when all he felt were vestiges of what was once a roaring fire. However, before the terror could overwhelm his young body, a loud cry caused him to whirl around.

"Ah, Salazar!" Godric grumbled. "Did I not tell you to be careful with the mirror? It was my mother's!" Putting down the set of clothes he'd gathered for his fellow Hogwarts instructor, Godric pointed his wand at the mirror and said, " _Reparo._ "

Sighing in relief when it was whole again, Godric picked it up from the floor and cast Salazar a disapproving look. "Truly, Salazar, I think you do things sometimes just to show how little you care for what I have to say!"

Clenching his hands into fist and hunching his shoulders, Salazar dropped his gaze to the ground and tried not to be swayed by the overwhelming urge to cry as Godric scolded him.

"My apologies," Salazar muttered in reply.

"'Tis fine," the man sighed. Then, using the daring he so greatly prized, he reached down to ruffle Salazar's hair. "Young Garret certainly tricked you, did he not? And to think! He is one of Helga's pupils!" Godric exclaimed merrily.

Crossing his arms, Salazar mumbled, "Do not remind me..."

Crouching down and poking his stomach, Godric remarked, "This is quite an ingenious trick, would you not agree?"

"'Tis not ingenious, 'tis wicked!" Salazar countered heatedly as he batted away the man's much larger hand.

Godric, chuckling, said, "Come now, Salazar, the boy meant no harm. You are only saying it is wicked because he has wounded your pride."

Throwing up his arms in his fury, Salazar screamed, "Why do you defend that little churl? Do you not see what he has done? I cannot even use my  _magic_ in this form! Do you realize how dangerous that is? What if Hogwarts comes under siege? Or, as is wont to happen these days, what if one of your pupils, Helga's or even  _Rowena's_ attacks mine? How am I to defend them? My wand will not even  _listen_ to me!"

"To be fair, Salazar, I believe one of your students is much more likely to start a brawl with another than the other way around," Godric replied.

Hot tears pricking at his eyes, Salazar could barely see as he shoved the man. It didn't even nudge Godric, of course, but it felt good to be able to push his anger out over bottling it up, as he'd done since Hogwarts had begun to host students. "You are not  _listening_ to me!" Salazar howled. "I am  _useless_  like this!"

"Nay, Salazar," Godric disagreed. "You are still one of most intelligent men I know. You can still speak to snakes and I have no doubts, even in this form, you could command the respects of not only your students, but mine and the rest as well."

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Salazar mumbled through the lump in his throat, "You are too kind. I do not know how you and Helga manage to believe the best of people when so many go out of their way to prove you wrong."

"'Tis hope," the man replied as he wrapped a hand around Salazar's neck. "Now, if you change into the clothes I brought you, you can come with me to find Helga. Mayhap she will know what spell young Garrett used on you, and if not, I am certain she will be able to wrangle an answer out of him."

An impish twinkle to his eye then, Godric commented, "Helga certainly knows how to make one feel badly about what they have done. I think it might be because of the way her lip quivers when you are refusing to right your wrongdoings. What do you think, Salazar?"

"Tis her eyes," he answered with a small smile of his own. "They look as if they are about to pour over with tears. And as one who has watched her cry, I can say 'tis the last thing you wish to cause. The guilt of it is quite a terrible thing to experience."

Face mirthful, Godric covered his mouth as he laughed.

Grinning back broadly, Salazar felt better. He could still make his friend laugh by his words alone, proving that even if his body was that of a child's, his wit remained. It would be for the best that this be fixed quickly, but if it was not possible...Well, Salazar figured he would be fine for a while.


	7. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Original Female Character and Original Male Character

Celia Bulstrode nee Gamp was known for her tricky ways. It should have been expected, given her special talent. It was common knowledge that Celia was a metamorphmagus. Since her earliest hours she'd been surprising people with her skill. First, it had been the midwife who delivered her when she'd turned her hair from a demure brown to a violent orange during her first moments of life. Then her mother only ten minutes later when her hair returned to its original color once placed in her arms.

It had been a day and a half later when her father came to visit her that she gave him his first shock. When he had leaned in close for inspection of his newest daughter, he'd been thoroughly startled by the way her tiny, infant nose turned into a miniature copy of his own bulbous proboscis.

Her parents had of course heard of metamorphmagus, and it was well-known that in her family, her father's great-great grandfather had been one as well. However, neither had expected any of their children to be born with such a rare talent - especially a daughter. But against all odds, Celia had been born with the gift.

And with that gift, Celia had spent much of her youth getting everything she wanted just by using it. As a young girl, she often took on her brother's countenance and stole his clothes as to get a chance to go flying or play games of chess with her boy cousins and learn about the many fascinating things that only wizards ever seemed to be privy to. During her time at Hogwarts, she used the skill to her advantage many times. First it was just to scare her fellow dormmates when they told scary stories in the dead of night, but as she got older, Celia had used it when she wished to sneak out of her dorm in the night to meet with her Ravenclaw sister. No one ever questioned her presence out in the halls after hours when she took the face of Head Girl Mary Thomas to wander.

Later, she took the face of her husband's brother, Octavius Bulstrode and used the high-esteem Magnus held in him to sway him into picking her for a wife over the far too vain Evangeline Yaxley. And later, when her days as a girl were done and she was a woman running her household, she used the skill to entertain her children.

Out of the three, her son, Gabriel, was the one who most adored her special skill. Often as a little boy he'd ask her to act out his favorite stories and take on the faces of the characters as she did so. Celia always did. Gabriel, her baby, her only son, was the one she adored most out of her children and she would give him everything he asked for.

However, it was because of this he became a spoilit and selfish boy.

When he was sixteen, his spoiling lead him into trouble that their would be no escaping. Scorned when the daughter of Todd Bell refused his proposal, Gabriel had cornered the girl within the halls of Hogwarts and sullied her innocence. In response, the Bell family demanded that Gabriel pay equally.

For all intents and purposes, their daughter's life was over. No one would marry her now. There would never be grandchildren. And so, in return, they wanted him dead.

Celia wouldn't stand for it. She couldn't sit by and watch her son, her baby die. Yes, he had done wrong, yes he had ruined another's life. Yes, he deserved to be punished. But as far as she was concerned, no, he did not deserve to die.

It was at this moment Celia began to form a plan. She would have a family house elf take a polyjuice potion that would make the creature appear as Celia and she would take on the form of her son and take his place. If she did this, her husband and daughters would be able to help Gabriel run away to safety and they could kill the house elf later that night and blame a broken heart on her unexpected demise.

The last think Celia wanted to do was die. She wanted to watch her oldest daughter, Violetta, marry her fiance Cygnus Black and she wanted to see her younger daughter, Angelina graduate from Hogwarts. She wanted to meet her grandchildren and be there for her husband as he retired from work and to keep him company in his twilight. But if Celia wanted her son to live, she would have to die.

Taking on the face of her son, Celia looked into the mirror of her bedroom and sobbed.

"You foolish, foolish boy," she whimpered. "I hope you will learn a lesson from this!"

-v-v-v-v-v-

Gabriel was not there to watch the green light strike his mother down and he was not there to witness the glow leave her lively eyes, but as he travelled by boat to the coast of France with a new identity, and papers to prove it in his pocket, he didn't need to be. His mind's eye had always been vivid and painted the picture of his mother's death in the most horrifying way possible. And for the rest of his days, Gabriel would be tortured by night terrors of her death. Each dream more terrible than the last.

He would always regret what he'd done that day to the Bell girl - if only for the fact it stole the one woman he'd truly loved from his life.


	8. Rats!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and James Potter

Himself once again, Peter staggered as he took a step. The sudden change in size having left him off kilter. Looking to his gathered friends, he asked, "Well? What was I?"

Staring at him with a half-perplexed grin, Sirius asked in return, "You don't  _know_? Don't you have any idea what you were?"

"No, I don't know..." he hedged, looking away. Truthfully, Peter was pretty sure he knew what he'd been. But he was hoping against hope that he was wrong. After all, James and Sirius's animagus were so  _wicked_. A stag and dog? How much luckier could they be? As for him...Well, Peter never had much luck.

Barking a laugh, James fiddled with his glasses as he commented, "You must know what you are. C'mon, Pete, you don't really need us to spell it out for you, do you?"

Sighing Peter looked away.

"Knock it off, James," Remus warned him mildly as he picked up on Peter's dejected stance. "Peter, are you...upset about your animagus form?"

Words catching in his throat, he could only nod.

"What for?" Sirius questioned. "I'd pick being a rat over a cockroach any day of the week."

Peter balled his hands up and bit out, "But I don't want to be a rat! It's so lame compared to what you two are! Tell me, Sirius, how would  _you_ feel if James and I turned into wicked animals like-like an  _eagle_ and a  _bear_ while you ended up as some dinky little vole!"

Sirius put up his hands in a placating motion as he said nearly noiselessly, "O- _kay_."

"Rats aren't dinky," James argued. "It's not like I'll be able to sneak into the girls dorm for a look-see in my animagus form."

Remus, scandalized, hissed, "James!"

Chuckling a little though, Peter nodded. That was a nice point.

Noticing that James had lifted his spirits some, Sirius smirked. He then proceeded to add to James's pro, "Plus, when we go cavorting in the Forbidden Forest with Mooney, you'll get to ride on one of our heads or backs! You'll never have to break a sweat!"

Peter took this in and found himself nodding. "Yeah, okay, maybe it's not as bad as I first thought..."

Clapping a hand on his shoulder, James grinned. "It so isn't! We're going to have a lot of fun, just you wait!" he enthused.

Finding himself smiling back, Peter felt much better. His friends were right, with this new trick, there were so many exciting things in store for them.

All the possibilities flashing before his eyes, he replied gleefully, "I can't wait!"


	9. Girly Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Hermione Granger and Madam Pomfrey

Waking up was a process. She had to actually  _fight_ the arms of sleep to let her move out of the in-between land of dream and wakefulness to open her eyes to the sunlight of the day. But even after she was sitting up and blinking her eyes to acclimate herself to the day's light, she felt like she was in a fog.

Bringing a hand to rub at her cheek, she was made aware in a very distant way that her face felt scratchy. Sort of like how her dad's face felt when she'd accept a kiss from him. It didn't take much longer to realize that she wasn't in her dorm, but in the infirmary. A frown tugging at her lips, she turned to slip out of the bed she was in.

"Madam Pomfrey?" she called.

Hermione touched her throat. It too was scratchy like her cheek and there was a  _lump._  Rocketing to her feet so quickly that she nearly lost balance, Hermione shouted once more, "Madam Pomfrey!"

Finally, the nurse appeared. "Miss Granger!" she rebuked. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"What's wrong with me? Where's a mirror?" Hermione demanded as she started to run her hands over the rest of her body and realize that many things were missing.

An uneasy set coming to her features, Madam Pomfrey said, "Miss Granger, dear, why don't you take a seat? I'll get you a mirror in the meantime."

"What happened to me?" she demanded again, flinching at the timber of her own bellow.

The woman narrowed her eyes fiercely and commanded once more, "Sit! I will make you, if I must, Miss Granger!"

Reluctantly, Hermione sat back down.

Nodding in satisfaction, the woman turned her back on Hermione and went to a tabletop nearby. Picking up what had to be a mirror, she approached with the reflective side pressed to her chest. "Now, Miss Granger, before I hand you the mirror, may I ask you a question or two?"

Hermione wanted to say no. She wanted to demand that the mirror be handed over. But she didn't. Instead, she did the polite thing and agreed to the questioning. "Yes, it's okay," she answered.

Brows relaxing marginally, Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Thank you, dear," she said. "Now, do you remember what you were doing before you woke up here?"

"I was-" Hermione paused. She wasn't actually sure. Everything past Transfiguration was quite muddled. Vaguely, she recalled walking with Ron and Harry when they were stopped by - Malfoy? Yes, Malfoy. It had to be him. Then there had been wands raised and she had-

"Malfoy came to goad Harry and when I tried to step in-between them he cast a spell. Is that why I feel odd? Did his spell do something to me?"

Madam Pomfrey gave an unhappy snort. "More like it did something to  _both_  of you. I'm sure the boy will learn his lesson about casting half-remembered spells after this one," she muttered.

Giving the nurse a quizzical look, Hermione stretched out her hand. "May I have the mirror?"

"Be aware, dear, this might be quite...shocking to you. I'm surprised the scream Mister Malfoy unleashed upon my infirmary didn't wake you an hour ago."

Pursing her lips, Hermione replied, "Yes, well, I think whatever the spell did made me very tired. I'm  _still_ tired even..."

"Poor dear," the woman clucked. "I'll let you rest here a little longer if you wish after this."

Hermione gave a relieved smile. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. That might be nice."

"Now, again, this might be quite shocking..." the woman warned her as she finally handed Hermione the mirror.

Taking it with eager fingers, Hermione wasted no time in looking into its reflective surface. What she saw left her completely speechless. Instead of seeing the usual round cheeks, fine eyebrows and petite nose she was used to, Hermione saw the face of someone that could have been her brother. His eyebrows were heavy like her fathers, his jaw broad and nose long. The only thing she'd dare to call feminine about his highly masculine face would be his eyelashes. They were thicker and darker than her own - almost unfairly so - and Hermione could barely stand it.

This wasn't  _her_ face!

Startled from her revere by a gentle hand upon her knee, Hermione looked over to the sympathetic face of Madam Pomfrey. "I'm sorry, dear. The spell is a gender-switching spell, you see. Something concocted ages ago by an angry wife, the story goes. This spell will last at least a month, unfortunately."

"A month? Why that long?" Hermione asked unhappily.

Sighing, the woman took back the mirror and turned her back on Hermione as she set it aside. "As I explained to Mister Malfoy, we will have to wait at least a month as that's usually how long a woman has between her monthlies. This spell, as I said, was concocted by an angry wife who wanted to make her husband understand all the troubles a woman goes through...including that time of the month."

"Oh, poor Malfoy," Hermione murmured. Usually she had little sympathy for the likes of him, but it was bad enough as a girl to go through the monthlies, for someone who was actually supposed to be a boy? She could just barely imagine the horror he would feel when it happened. The  _wrongness_ of it all.

Lips twitching, Madam Pomfrey agreed. "Yes, you are quite right," she replied. "He was very upset as it was when he left. But he wasn't willing to stay here, either. I suppose he's likely gone back to his dorm. Oh, I think we will have to talk to Dumbledore. Boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorm and I imagine without help you won't be able to get into yours..."

"Can we do that now?" Hermione begged. "I'd really just like to go lie down in my bed for a while..."

Patting her knee once more, Madam Pomfrey got up. "Of course, dear. I'll go speak with the Headmaster, you just wait here."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," she muttered in reply before laying back down.

Bringing her hands together over her now very flat stomach, Hermione linked her hairy fingers together and took a deep breath. This was going to be a very long month, she knew. While it was going to be nowhere near as terrible as Malfoy's, Hermione still saw a very an difficult time ahead.

As of right now, her biggest worry was how her dormmates were going to take her being a boy. Unluckily for Hermione, they tended to be far from rational and somehow, she just  _knew_ they were going to protest her staying there even though she was still a girl in mind.

Turning onto her side, Hermione brought her hands to her face and moaned into them, "How is this my life?"


	10. Tea Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Graham Montague, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass, Scorpius Malfoy and Original Child Character.

"Opal! Misses Malfoy is here to get Scorpius! Opal, Scorpius, are you in-" Graham Montague cut his sentence short upon stepping into his daughter's bedroom.

He frowned at the sight of his daughter - and only his daughter - who was having a tea party with several of her stuffed animals and dolls. "Opal, where's Scorpius?" he asked the soon to be seven-year-old.

Smiling up at him, her cherubic cheeks dimpled, Opal said, "Oh, he's right there, Daddy!" Her tiny finger pointed across the little table to a doll wearing a sparkly tiara.

Graham crossed his arms. "Opal, this isn't the time to joke with Daddy. Misses Malfoy is waiting for Scorpius."

The smile morphed into a scowl. "Daddy, that's  _him_ ," she insisted. "He wouldn't play tea party, so I made him!"

"What?" Graham exclaimed out of confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Settling her hands in her lap, Opal, cherubic face serene and patient, repeated herself. "Daddy, that's Scorpius in the tiara. When he wouldn't play tea part with me, I made him."

"That's...Scorpius," he muttered dubiously as he looked to the doll. Upon closer inspection, Graham's stomach began to sink. The doll, a dainty looking blond thing wearing a blue turtle neck and overalls, did look like Scorpius. And upon a bit of consideration, Graham's fear was confirmed when he picked up the doll and saw its eyes were gray.

"Well, fuck," Graham said.

Gasping loudly, his daughter put her hands to her mouth. "Daddy! That's a bad word!" she cried scandalized.

He glared at Opal. "You turned a  _Malfoy's_ child into a doll! What do you think that means for us, Opal?"

"You can't turn him back?" the little girl warbled.

Graham shook his head furiously. "No! How in Merlin's name did you do this in the first place?"

Tears pouring from her eyes, the little girl whimpered, "H-He wouldn't play! I said it'd be better if he was one of my dolls because they  _never_ say no to a tea party! Then, he turned into one!"

"Graham? What's taking so long? I told Draco we'd be home five minutes ago..." Astoria trailed off at the sight she found in her friend's daughter's playroom.

Looking between them, she asked, "Where's my son?"

"Uh..." Graham said unintelligibly as he glanced to the toy in his hand and then to Astoria.

Eyes growing wide, the woman snatched the doll from his grip and promptly screamed when she saw her son within its features.

Closing his eyes, Graham murmured lowly, "Kill me now."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a comment and/or kudo if you have a moment!


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